


Come Closer

by London9Calling



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Guitar Lessons because I had to, M/M, Mushy, Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-27
Updated: 2019-11-27
Packaged: 2021-02-26 07:15:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21579757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/London9Calling/pseuds/London9Calling
Summary: “What if I wanted to learn?” Kyungsoo asked the question while Chanyeol finished playing Girl from North Country on his Gibson Les Paul Studio.“Learn, the guitar.” Kyungsoo gestured towards the instrument. “Would you teach me?”
Relationships: Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 41
Kudos: 247





	Come Closer

**Author's Note:**

> Hello yes this is because Chanyeol had to go and spend a portion of his birthday party telling everyone he went on a date with Kyungsoo and was giving him guitar lessons. So yeah, it’s Chanyeol’s fault. Enjoy this sappy mushy Chansoo ~~ and Happy Comeback Day! (and Happy Birthday PCY <3)

“For fuck’s sake, Chanyeol, he isn’t going to disappear if you look away.”

“You don’t know that,” Chanyeol shot back, not willing to chance it. Do Kyungsoo, his best friend, was really standing across the street, waiting for the light to change. He was really yards away, closer than he had been in months, and Chanyeol was. Not. Okay.

It had been a long separation, the longest they had since they first met (first grade, King of the Hill game, Kyungsoo won), and it was hard, even if Oh Sehun seemed to think Chanyeol was dramatic about the entire thing.

Kyungsoo was in the army now, it wasn’t like he was in another city or country – in Chanyeol’s opinion, this was worse than if he was simply living far away. Kyungsoo was under specific rules that kept Chanyeol from calling him at two in the morning when he wanted to remember the name of that one guy they used to buy Pokémon cards from. It was tragic.

“Right. Right.” Sehun sighed. “If you don’t watch him every second, he will cease to exist.”

“Now, you get it.” Chanyeol pressed his nose the glass. The window was dirty, and he usually would be grossed out by the grimy streaks, but. Do. Kyungsoo.

“Did you put out the cake?”

“Yes, it’s on the table.”

“What about the balloons?”

“You blew those up yourself. Listen, you’re going to scare him off if you keep this up.” Sehun warned. “Hyung, you know you can be intense sometimes, and you know Kyungsoo doesn’t like grand displays and- “

Chanyeol stopped listening to Sehun the moment he lost sight of Kyungsoo. He rushed to the door, throwing it open just as Kyungsoo raised his hand up to knock. The result was a very confused Kyungsoo, standing wide-eyed, staring back at his best friend.

Chanyeol didn’t say anything. He just moved, grabbing Kyungsoo into a bone-crushing hug that took the smaller man by surprise. He made a noise like “oomph” as he was crushed to Chanyeol’s chest.

“Kyungsoo, I missed you,” Chanyeol said, feeling the tears start to gather in his eyes. He hated that he was a crier.

Chanyeol’s heart-wrenching sentiment was met with a shove, Kyungsoo pushing hard against his chest until he was free of Chanyeol’s arms. He stumbled back, almost falling.

Chanyeol gasped, looking like a wounded animal.

“I couldn’t breathe,” Kyungsoo muttered, reaching out to touch the spot on Chanyeol’s chest, where he had pushed him away. “Sorry.”

“No, no. My fault. I was just so happy and- “

“He hasn’t shut up about your leave since you called.” Sehun stepped forward, into the personal bubble the two best friends had surreptitiously erected. “Hyung, it’s good to see you.”

Kyungsoo had always had a lot of affection for Sehun, which was evident when he turned from Chanyeol and opened his arms wide. “It’s good to see you too, Sehunnie.” Sehun smiled before stepping into Kyungsoo’s arms.

Chanyeol might have frowned _. Maybe_. Okay, fine, he totally did, but it didn’t matter because no one was paying attention to him anyway.

Five minutes later, Chanyeol was shoving a piece of the _Welcome Back Loser_ cake in the soldier’s face, laughing while trying to take a picture of the mess. Five minutes and two seconds later, Kyungsoo returned the favor. Thirty seconds after that, the cake got on Sehun’s shirt, and he declared he was done because “This shirt cost me four hundred dollars, dumbasses.”

Exactly half an hour after Kyungsoo first walked into Park’s Music, Chanyeol had him alone, a cake laden and crabby Sehun shuffling from the store, promising to be back after he changed.

Chanyeol was uncharacteristically silent while he watched Kyungsoo wander around the music store. He stopped to look at the walls of guitars and basses, the drum kits set up in the northeast corner, even taking a few moments to browse through the vinyl records lining the wall by the front door.

“My mom bought it for me,” Chanyeol rambled, stepping forward the second he saw Kyungsoo stop in front of the large glass case in the front of the shop. “I didn’t buy it. Not my money. Didn’t spend my money on it. A present. Not. My. Money.”

Kyungsoo chuckled. “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

“Yes, you were. You totally were.” Chanyeol had grown up with Kyungsoo giving him the “spend your money wisely” lecture, he knew it was coming the moment he set eyes on the autographed guitar. Red and white, shiny with several lights shining on it, the thing was hard to miss.

“Fine, I was.” Kyungsoo chuckled again. Chanyeol felt a tug in his chest at the sound, he had missed it over the last six months.

“I’m glad you have some time off,” Chanyeol said quietly, taking a moment to just look at his friend.

Kyungsoo cut a dashing figure in his fatigues. Chanyeol could tell he had bulked up a little; his skin was tanner and his hair (of course) shorter. He looked good, maybe too good.

“I’m just sorry I missed the grand opening.” Kyungsoo turned to Chanyeol, looking away from the prized possession.

“It’s fine.” Chanyeol waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Not a big deal.”

“This has been your dream since we were kids. It _is_ a big deal,” Kyungsoo said, tone even. “A huge deal.”

Chanyeol felt heat creep up his neck. “You’re here now.”

Kyungsoo looked thoughtful. “Yeah, I guess I am.”

Chanyeol reached forward and grabbed Kyungsoo’s arm. “Now come on, let me show you the office. That is where the real magic happens.”

“You literally plan MTG back there, don’t you,” Kyungsoo guessed as he let himself be led back behind the counter.

“You know it,” Chanyeol sing-songed, pushing the Led Zeppelin curtain aside to reveal the stockroom.

“What if I wanted to learn?” Kyungsoo asked the question while Chanyeol finished playing _Girl from North Country_ on his Gibson Les Paul Studio.

“Learn, the guitar.” Kyungsoo gestured towards the instrument. “Would you teach me?”

“You want to learn how to play guitar?” Chanyeol asked dumbly. Kyungsoo had never shown interest in the instrument for as long as Chanyeol had known him, and it wasn’t for lack of exposure. Chanyeol spent the better part of high school playing guitar, and since he also spent the better part of that time with Kyungsoo, his friend was his de facto audience.

“Yeah. I was thinking about it. I need a hobby for the evenings,” he explained. “It gets boring on base after work is done.”

Chanyeol swallowed thickly. “Yeah. I can show you.”

Kyungsoo smiled at his response. It was the briefest smile, but it did something to Chanyeol’s chest, which made him feel simultaneously warm but cold. “Thank you, Chanyeol.”

“Don’t mention it. Anything for my best friend,” Chanyeol said in a sarcastic tone, partially to pull himself out of whatever strange set of feelings had just come over him and partly to lighten the mood. It was getting too sentimental for his own comfort, mostly because he didn’t want to cry. “You’ll need to pick a guitar.”

“A guitar?” Kyungsoo said dumbly, picking at the hem of his army-issued shirt. “Can’t you pick one for me?”

“Nope.” Chanyeol clucked his tongue. “Picking your guitar is the most important part of the entire process. Think of it like Harry Potter’s wand.”

“A phallic symbol that has ingrained itself so deeply in myth and fantasy it is seen as a harmless and fun object, even though it is part of systematic oppression of women that has been around for centuries?” Kyungsoo rattled off, blinking.

“You’ve been talking to Yoora again, haven’t you?” Chanyeol sighed. The words had to have come straight from his sister’s mouth.

“She sent me cookies,” Kyungsoo shrugged. “I love her cookies.”

Chanyeol couldn’t argue with that. “Now come on, let’s go find your phallic symbol.”

Kyungsoo’s phallic symbol turned out to be one of the less pricey acoustic models that Chanyeol had stocked. Not the cheapest but nowhere near midrange either. It was small, simple, neat – very Kyungsoo-like.

“You can pay for it later,” Chanyeol said when Kyungsoo reached for his wallet. “I know you don’t have a lot of cash right now.” He had heard the army paid like shit, and he knew that whatever Kyungsoo did make was likely given to his mom. She had been in a rough spot since his father passed away the year before.

“Chanyeol.” Kyungsoo pulled out a few bills.

“Nope, not gonna take it.” Chanyeol backed away from the counter. “La la la can’t hear you lalalala.”

When Kyungsoo shoved the money towards him, Chanyeol jumped over the wood counter, ignoring the bills.

“Chanyeol,” Kyungsoo said firmly.

“You can pay me for the lessons,” Chanyeol called over his shoulder as he put more distance between him and his friend, walking over to one of the display cases and going to work straightening the row of tablature books. He heard Kyungsoo sigh, and for some reason, it made him smile.

God, he had missed his best friend.

Soldiers could leave their bases two evenings during a month to attend to personal affairs. Doctors appointments, meetings with family, random personal business, or in Kyungsoo’s case, guitar lessons. He was stationed close enough where he could get to Chanyeol’s music store by six-fifteen, his face flushed and breathing heavy from jogging the last couple blocks from the bus stop. He would stay until he absolutely had to leave – usually ten to nine because traffic wasn’t as bad the later it got. Two weeks would pass, and he would do it all over again.

Chanyeol would make dinner before Kyungsoo arrived and let him go to town, stuffing his face while Chanyeol figured out what exactly they should focus on for the evening. It made him happy to see Kyungsoo eating what he cooked, in his store, spending time with him…

“Don’t you think it’s weird he spends his two nights a month at the store and not visiting his mom or something?” Sehun mentioned one day as they were in the stockroom, unpacking a case of CDs. “He must only visit her when he’s on leave.”

“His mom is fine with it,” Chanyeol said over his shoulder, pushing a stack of Taylor Swift albums on the cart. “He calls her almost every night.”

“I forgot you visit her like every day,” Sehun said. Something in his tone got Chanyeol’s attention.

“She lives next door to me; of course, I see her every day.” Chanyeol had moved into the apartment when his friend had enlisted– Kyungsoo was going to be gone, and his mom would need help around the house. Chanyeol’s apartment was about to be bulldozed to become a parking lot, and the unit next to Kyungsoo’s mother was open. It just worked. “What is with you?”

Sehun shrugged. “Nothing. Just pointing out how much he must miss you too.”

Chanyeol knew Kyungsoo was the opposite of sentimental. He hadn’t once told him he missed him. It couldn’t be it. “He likes learning guitar,” Chanyeol muttered.

“Whatever you say,” Sehun replied, letting a stack of Lizzo albums down on the back counter.

Chanyeol could freely admit that Kyungsoo was not a natural when it came to guitar. After three months he still couldn’t figure out the difference between D and A (how even) and his down, down, up, down, up, down was usually up, down, up, down, and then a sheepish grin because he knew he was doing something wrong but couldn’t figure out what.

“It’s okay, you’re learning,” Chanyeol said in his most reassuring voice after Kyungsoo asked him for the umpteenth time what the 4/4 on the tab meant. “It’s the time signature. Here, I can show you how it works.”

“How did you learn this without lessons?” Kyungsoo mumbled. “I can’t even figure out the basics.”

“Well, I can’t dungeon master,” Chanyeol shot back.

“You are seriously comparing guitar playing to the shitty dungeon mastering I did back in eighth grade?” Kyungsoo raised his eyebrow in question.

“A skill is a skill,” Chanyeol hummed. “Now, come here, watch.”

The song was the basic 4/4 signature. Chanyeol reached for Kyungsoo’s hand, moving it to sit on his knee before he started to play. “Feel me tap my foot,” Chanyeol said, beginning the song.

He was two chords in before it hit him what he had done. Kyungsoo’s hand was cupping his knee, and while that was an innocent enough thing, it just…it just wasn’t for some reason. It didn’t seem to be. Even while Kyungsoo bit his lip, his gaze intense, clearly focused on what Chanyeol was trying to show him.

But for Chanyeol, his brain was no longer focused on the lesson, his mind was now a panicked preteen who just learned their favorite group would play at their middle school graduation. Chanyeol jerked his knee away, Kyungsoo’s hand falling.

“Here, there is another way that might be easier for you,” Chanyeol blew it off, standing up and setting his guitar in the stand. He felt strange. Seriously, what was wrong with him? He walked to the small bookshelf he kept in the lesson room and began paging through one of the tablature books, pretending like he was searching for something while he zoned out.

“Hey, my mom said you stopped by and helped her put up the towel rack,” Kyungsoo said. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Chanyeol had stopped by the day before, it was a simple project, took him all of five minutes.

“I don’t know what I would do if you weren’t around to help her,” Kyungsoo said softly.

Chanyeol made the mistake of glancing back at Kyungsoo and damnit, his expression could only be described as _fond_. It made Chanyeol’s rush of confused feelings intensify, turning his brain to mush as he stared dumbly at his friend.

“When I enlisted, I was worried, yunno.” Kyungsoo’s fingers traced along the strings of the acoustic guitar. “I don’t think I deserve you, Park Chanyeol.”

Chanyeol swallowed down the lump that had formed in his throat. “Of course, you don’t. No one deserves me,” Chanyeol joked, resorting to humor as a defense mechanism. “I’m as close to perfect as a person can get.”

“I knew I shouldn’t stroke your ego,” Kyungsoo clucked his tongue.

“It’s okay, mere mortal.” Chanyeol tossed the tablature book at Kyungsoo, watching as his friend fumbled to catch it. “Page fifty-five. Try to play it.”

Chanyeol settled back down on his stool, arms crossed across his chest. He listened while Kyungsoo fumbled through the opening of the song, continually looking at Chanyeol for some sign he was doing well.

“He’s three years older, he works at the university, and no he isn’t a professor. And we use condoms,” Sehun said, holding up his phone.

Chanyeol narrowed his eyes at his friend-slash-subpar employee. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because Kyungsoo would have asked, and since he’s not here, I figure you’re close enough.” Sehun shook the phone in Chanyeol’s face. “Now look.”

It was a picture of a guy in a Star Wars shirt, his dark hair styled away from his face. “He’s good looking.”

“Of course, he’s good looking, I’m fucking him.” Sehun rolled his eyes. “So anyway, tell Kyungsoo I am being safe and all that.”

“Tell him yourself.”

Sehun snorted. “And interrupt you guys’ dates? No, thank you.”

“They aren’t dates,” Chanyeol protested. “They’re lessons, you punk.”

“Whatever you say, Hyung.” Sehun patted Chanyeol’s shoulder, flashing a look of mock sympathy. “Whatever you say.”

“This is so good.” Kyungsoo had sauce on the corners of his mouth as he shoved another massive spoonful of noodles into his mouth. “Youmph should markethmph this.”

Chanyeol laughed. “Chew your food.” He grabbed a napkin and reached forward, dabbing at the corners of Kyungsoo’s mouth.

He felt so damn happy seeing Kyungsoo stuffing his face, and of course, the praise wasn’t making him feel any less gleeful. The evenings when Kyungsoo showed up at the shop were always a highlight for Chanyeol, a thousand times better than the other nights when business was slow and working the shop would border on the tedious.

“Sehun’s dating someone,” Chanyeol blurted out, relaying the message when it popped into his mind. “He said um, he’s being safe.”

Kyungsoo swallowed down his food. “Who is he? If he’s another guy from uptown–”

“He works at the university, but he’s not a professor.” Chanyeol took a seat on his stool. Clearing his throat, he said, “Does Sehun always tell you about his uh.” He waved his hand in the air in a vague gesture.

“Yeah. I worry about him.” Kyungsoo set the bowl down on the small table and licked his lips. “He’s not the smartest when it comes to men.”

Chanyeol could have added he wasn’t the smartest when it came to a lot of things, but he bit his tongue. “I never knew you guys talked about…it.” He wasn’t feeling left out. No. Not at all. Not even a little bit.

“What about you?” Kyungsoo expertly asked. “Are you seeing anyone?”

Chanyeol burst out laughing, and only later would he realize how forced and fake it sounded – so loud it was almost comical. “Me? Date someone?” He pulled a face and shifted on his seat. “Like I could date someone.”

“Why can’t you?” Kyungsoo was looking at him with one of those signature Kyungsoo-expressions, his big eyes boring into his god damn soul.

“I just, I can’t.” Chanyeol tried to think of any excuse he could, but he was coming up blank. “What about you?”

“I’m single. Do you think I would date someone and not tell you?”

“I don’t know.” Chanyeol felt fidgety. He pushed his hair back from his face, just needing to do something with his hands. “We can’t know everything about each other. If you’re dating someone it isn’t my business.” _The last person you dated was two years ago, and I hated his smug face so, so much_ were the words that were at the tip of his tongue, but he couldn’t say.

“I get lonely sometimes, though. I mean, the army is great, but when I get out…” Kyungsoo trailed off.

Chanyeol tightened his jaw.

“You haven’t dated anyone since- “

“Yifan. Old news. It was years ago.” Chanyeol reached for his guitar, needing a distraction. “Now come on. You’re paying me for lessons. I shouldn’t waste your money.”

Kyungsoo smiled but didn’t protest, reaching for the acoustic guitar that sat next to him. “I think I have that song down.”

“Show me,” Chanyeol said, feeling a measure of safety now the talk had turned to music.

Kyungsoo was a lot like his mother. A lot. Sometimes it was a bit disorienting if Chanyeol was honest. Kyungsoo’s mother had the same expressions, the same reserved personality, the same tendency to rip open Chanyeol’s soul with a few choice words.

“I found a nice woman for my son.”

 _Eight_ choice words, to be exact.

“Huh?” Chanyeol was in the middle of fixing Mrs. Do’s cable box, which had fallen victim to one very hyper cat. The wires were all disconnected, laying on the floor in a twist.

“It’s time he got married, don’t you think.” She was seated in her pink floral armchair, the guilty cat laying on her lap, eying Chanyeol up. “My friend’s daughter is around his age and needs a husband. I think they’d make a good match.”

It wasn’t news to Chanyeol that Kyungsoo’s mother wanted him to marry a woman and have, in her words, a football team of grandchildren, but this strategy was new. To Chanyeol’s knowledge, she had never set him up before.

“Did you ask him if he’s ready to get married?” Chanyeol asked. He was busy untangling a knot in the cords, his fingers picking at the wires. He wasn’t sure he wanted to hear an answer to his question.

“He will once he meets her.”

Chanyeol instantly disliked _her_ , whoever she was. “I think I’m going to have to find a new cord, this one has a split.” He held up the shredded cord, a red wire sticking out.

“Bad kitty,” Mrs. Do scolded the feline halfheartedly, and damn if Chanyeol didn’t see Kyungsoo’s frown when she did.

He wasn’t sure how he was going to bring it up. If he should bring it up. Even if it was his place to bring it up.

Sehun had guessed something was up by how uncharacteristically quiet Chanyeol had been all afternoon, even asking him if he was upset about all the Pokémon dying (Chanyeol said no, then googled it and cried for ten minutes in the bathroom. Climate change is so cruel).

In typical Chanyeol fashion, it just came tumbling out. “Did you go on a blind date?”

Kyungsoo was mid-strum when Chanyeol asked. He ended with an off-key twang before blinking at his friend. “How would I go on a date; I spend every free evening I have here.”

“Oh.” Of course, he hadn’t missed one lesson. He only had two free nights a month. Chanyeol felt like a moron for asking.

“Why? Do you know something I don’t?” Kyungsoo was already setting the guitar aside and standing, moving towards Chanyeol. “Did my mother say something?”

Of course, he knew his mother, and he knew his best friend; coupled with the out-of-the-blue question it immediately raised his suspicions.

Chanyeol squirmed in his seat. “I...”

“She’s trying to set me up again, isn’t she?”

“Again?” Chanyeol blurted out, his heart rate suddenly spiking. “She’s tried to set you up before?”

Kyungsoo backed off, slumping back down on his stool. He nodded, looking soulless.

Chanyeol felt like he had been slapped in the face. So, this wasn’t a new thing? How many blind dates had Kyungsoo been on? His stomach flipped, a feeling of dread pooling in his gut. He didn’t want to dissect why the news suddenly made him feel like his pet ferret had run away. He kind-of-sort-of wanted to cry, which made zero sense all things considered.

Maybe.

“I keep telling her not to,” Kyungsoo said quietly. “But she thinks I’m lonely.”

“You said yourself you’re lonely,” Chanyeol pointed out, recalling the words from their last lesson.

Kyungsoo opened his mouth like he was going to say something, then shut it. “Did I?”

“Yeah.”

The silence was overwhelming. Chanyeol strummed his guitar, the opening chords to Tangled up in Blue.

“I like someone,” Kyungsoo said, his deep voice loud and clear.

Chanyeol’s fingers stopped mid-strum. He felt like his entire body had suddenly tensed, muscles contracting. “Who?”

It was a rude question. He had no right to know. Kyungsoo was his best friend, and as a friend, he needed to respect his privacy. It was the right thing to do.

“Sorry you don’t have to tell me.” Chanyeol feigned indifference as he began to play, trying his best to ignore the erratic beating of his heart.

“It’s fine.” Kyungsoo cleared his throat, a noise Chanyeol had heard a thousand times over the years. “I like you.”

“What?” Chanyeol let the guitar go lax in his arms, his fingers sliding against the strings. He looked at Kyungsoo, really looked at him, knowing damn well he could tell if he was lying.

“I like you,” Kyungsoo said, louder this time. “I’ve liked you for a long time.”

Chanyeol couldn’t be sure if he was gaping, if he was just staring blankly, or if he had turned bright red. His perception seemed distorted, everything tunneling into the man who sat a few feet across from him, an acoustic guitar on his lap. Of course, he had spent every free evening with him.

“Forget it.” Kyungsoo made a move to stand. “I – I thought maybe you felt the same and––“

Chanyeol’s hand caught Kyungsoo’s wrist in a flash. “I do.”

“I like you too.” It was like a weight had been lifted off his chest when he said it. Sure, it was corny as hell. It was too sentimental for Kyungsoo, he would probably pull a face and crack a joke soon. But it was honest, and it was real, and Chanyeol needed to respond in kind. And then give him shit for it. “So, sit down. You paid me; you aren’t getting out of this lesson. I don’t give refunds.”

Kyungsoo took a moment to respond, but when he did, it was blinding. He smiled, chuckling as he grabbed his guitar. “No refunds? Not even for a frequent customer?”

“No refunds,” Chanyeol confirmed. “I am trying to run a business. I can’t have people taking advantage of me.” He began to strum at his guitar, his heart swelling in his chest.

So maybe he always knew he liked Kyungsoo as more than a friend. Perhaps he knew it even more when he had enlisted. Maybe he really, really wanted to kiss him. And maybe, just maybe, he really needed to tell Kyungsoo guitar lessons weren’t for him.

“What is a time measure again?” Kyungsoo asked a few minutes later, having butchered everything he attempted.

“Time signature,” Chanyeol corrected, finding infinite patience when it came to Kyungsoo. “Here, let me show you.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on Twitter plotting world domination [@London9Calling](https://twitter.com/London9Calling)


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